


Five nights of Season 10

by ArtlessTanager



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Warming, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Teasing, dom!Greg, sub!Alex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtlessTanager/pseuds/ArtlessTanager
Summary: What are Greg and Alex up to when they're not filming in the studio?A hypothetical account of how the boys could have spent their mornings and evenings during the studio shoot of Season 10.(No idea why I wrote this, but here we are. Updates one or two chapters a week until completion, depending on availabilities.)
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. Author's note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ultimately inconsequential personal musings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skip to the next chapter if you don't care for personal ramblings and want to dive straight into the action.

I was listening to the Taskmaster podcast Season 10 wrap-up episode with Greg Davies when I suddenly developed a similar feeling I had when listening to The Horne Section Podcast episode with the same man. Mainly because both eventually came to the subject of Greg/Alex fanfic and how Greg had a hard time picturing such a relationship (or his incomprehension at why people end up wanting to picture such a relationship).

It made me stop for a second.

A lot of us would scream at him, ‘Isn’t it obvious! Even the contestants wonder.’ but would it really be obvious were I in his position? And how would I feel if I found out that someone had written sexual fantasies between a friend and me? Probably vaguely uncomfortable and perplexed.

This is just an acknowledgement that Greg and Alex are humans and that I greatly respect them as people. They likely have no intimate relations whatsoever, excluding their on-screen dynamic (sometimes extending into interviews and award ceremonies). Unfortunately for them, their on-screen personas use the same names, appearances, and character traits as their real personalities. They themselves cannot fully separate the two, and neither can the public (hence people in the streets being upset at Alex for not being so little). And to be honest, the duality between fiction and reality is part of the appeal in writing fanfic—or stories of things that could have been. These stories are a show of affection towards the on-screen personas that they bear. I can only pretend to comprehend their true nature.

\---

I tried making this fic plausible by referencing real events (such as the pandemic). But I chose to ignore other things, like Greg's old man sleeping habits.


	2. Night 1 - July 25th, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are finally alone for the first time in forever. However, Alex is tired and still has work to do. Greg is disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't live in the UK, and haven't bothered looking up pandemic laws for end of July. Sorry. Anyways, the general consensus seems to be that they change all the time and that they are confusing, so maybe this is a good thing.)

10:30 PM

Greg, in jeans and a black hoodie, is standing in the studio lobby with his phone in his hands when Alex finally emerges with Andy D. They’re exchanging a few last words before the shorter of the two disappears down the hallway once more. Alex, in his casual wear, his bright green coat, a striped beanie, and a bag slung over his shoulder, approaches the man waiting for him. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Alex apologises. 

Greg, whose eyes are hidden underneath a black and camo green Nike cap, looks up after sending whatever it is he’s typing. 

“No worries mate, you do what you gotta do.”

“You make it sound like I’ve just spent the last half hour on the toilet instead of finalizing some details for tomorrow.” Alex gives the older man one of those incredulous looks he’s so good at.

Greg puts one hand up defensively and pulls up the handle of his small black suitcase with the other. “I mean, I respect you. You do you. It’s all fine.” He joins Alex who starts heading towards the exit. “As long as you don’t shit the bed tonight we’re good.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…” Alex sighs in amusement. “Yeah. I mean, you never know.” He pauses. “You never know when it wants to come out.”

Greg starts to giggle at the absurdity. “You never know.”

They settle into a familiar step. 

“It’s got a mind of its own.” Alex lifts his eyebrows in a helpless gesture.

“It’s got—” Greg repeats. “Yeah, it’s got a mind of its own. You never know.”

The cool night air hits them both. Immediately, like men deprived of oxygen, they pull off their masks. The pandemic has added an additional hurdle to their already concealed relationship. Obviously, Taskmaster provides a neat distraction. Hiding in plain sight, anything remotely reminiscent of a Dom/sub dynamic can be disregarded on account of their on-screen act—and truth be told it started that way—but now there’s so much more the men keep behind closed doors. First and foremost they are friends and colleagues. Then, they are partners. Not in a romantic way. There is no romance between them. But there is still a fashion of love. An endorphin fuelled love consisting of reverence and admiration, of absolute trust and honesty, of rules. They know there is a time and place for it, they know their careers come first, they know their families come first, they know the other person understands this, they know they are each other’s escape from it all. And so, despite agreeing that they are part of each other’s bubbles, the policies have changed so much that they couldn’t exactly see each other in private without infringing laws or having curious family members notice. The most they pulled off was camping. Which, despite Greg’s camper, wasn’t as comfortable as they wish it had been.

But now was their chance. In part, because they had had to get tested before the show, in part because they were seeing each other every day. It was too bad they couldn’t close the gap between their thrones.

“Happy?” Greg asks. The man keeps his distance just to help him keep his hands to himself.

Alex looks up. “Mmm. Yeah. I think so. I think it went fairly well. I’m glad we were able to film it really. I think everyone was glad to be in a studio again.” Pause. “The prize tasks were shit, and I mean, they’re not the most creative or proactive bunch, but they work really well as a cast I think.”

“They are pretty good as a cast,” Greg agrees. “Very generous in their laughter.” But then Greg frowns a bit. “The prize tasks are all shit, aren’t they.” A statement, not a question.

“Yeah.” Alex doesn’t even try to hide it but does seem bashful about it.

Greg snickers under his beard at the thought of the next four days. 

“I’m going to have such a good go at them.”

Alex, no reaction on his face, knows full well that Greg will have the time of his life bringing down the panel, and on the inside, he’s rather pleased he could make it happen. 

His lonely red Ford in the mostly empty parking lot comes into view. Alex unlocks it and pops the trunk open for their bags. They settle in front where Greg needs to push the seat back to accommodate his legs.

They drive off towards Chesham. Finally, they are alone. 

\---

“Do I need to be quiet?” Greg asks when they pull into Alex’s driveway.

“No, Rachel and the kids are at my in-laws for the week.”

Greg gives a cheeky eyebrow wriggle. “I’ll have to thank Rach for that.”

Alex lets out an embarrassed huff before killing the engine and jumping out the driver’s seat. But his expression darkens a little when they approach the house with their luggage. There’s a wariness in Alex’s demeanour. A weariness that, Greg knows, comes with being a parent and a husband. A weight of responsibility that can be both incredibly rewarding and heavy at times.

“We can go to my flat instead if you don’t mind the long commute,” Greg offers. He knows the other man finds it easier to relax there. His worries more readily left at the door.

Alex’s gaze snaps up towards him, surprise only discernible in the way his mouth hangs slightly open. The man shakes his head. 

“No, I’d rather be close.” He pauses. “Maybe closing night though,” he considers.

Greg shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Alex’s weariness follows him into the house, into the kitchen as he fixes them both some leftovers, and into the living room where he sets up his laptop and opens his inbox.

The older man stares.

“You’re not going to keep working, are you?”

Alex looks back helplessly. “I need to answer some emails. Can’t do them on stage.”

Greg doesn’t hide his disappointment. “It’s just us in this empty house and you expect me to patiently wait until you’re done with work after already having patiently waited the entire day for this moment?”

Fixating his screen, the auburn man lets a little bit of annoyance slip into his reply.

“It’ll be good practice. You’re not a very patient man.”

Greg just grunts, rises from the sofa, into the kitchen, and reappears a few minutes later with a couple of mugs of cocoa.

This time, Alex does pause.

“Thank you.” He accepts a mug gratefully.

The taller man, knowing he’ll need to wait for Alex to be done, and likely, until the next day because his friend will be too tired tonight, sits next to him on the left side of the couch and leans into him.

“These are private emails,” Alex says as he types away. However, there’s no effort on his part to push away the giant cat cuddling up to him.

Greg leans in a bit. “Ooooh. Emailing Andy about the next series?”

“Yes.”

“‘Hi Andy,’” Greg starts reading out loud. “‘Yes, that’s a good idea. I will take a look—’” But he is interrupted by soft chocolate flavoured lips and a scratchy stubble.

Alex prods at Greg’s tongue, and the other man doesn’t need to be asked twice. The tall man puts his cocoa down and grabs his friend’s head, pulling him insistently towards him. There’s an urgency as he plunders Alex’s mouth for the first time in what seems like ages. He groans in satisfaction, sucking at the shorter man’s lips. 

Soon, Greg is trying to slip a hand under the man’s sweater, but Alex pushes away, ever the self-controlled man.

“I need to finish this. It’s going to take a while. Go to bed.”

Alex regrets it a bit. There’s longing and hunger in the older man’s eyes that he has missed greatly. Not to mention he’s tired, his brain is fried, and he wants nothing more than let his Dom take control until his mind goes blank. But, he has things to do and he knows that regardless of when they finally cave it’ll have been worth the wait.

Greg looks at him for a long moment then pecks him on the forehead.

“Good night, my hard-working boy.”

“Good night Greg.”

\---

Much later, Alex joins Greg in bed. For some reason, when they’re at Alex’s, and Rachel has left them the house to themselves, Greg will sleep on Alex’s side of the bed while Alex sleeps on Rachel’s. They’ve never spoken about it, but Alex wonders if it’s because Greg likes to lie in the smell of him, or just considers it the dominant side of the bed. Either way, when Alex slides into the cool sheets, despite being fast asleep a heavy arm wraps itself around him without fail and won’t let go until the next morning.


	3. Morning 1 - July 26th, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg is still disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a tease, so here's a second chapter.

Greg wakes up to the sight of Alex divested of all but a pair of pink boxers, his head propped up by a pillow, reading the news on his phone.

“Good boy,” he rumbles appreciatively and runs the hand that’s still resting on his partner's waist up the man’s chest, grazing slightly the pink nipples.

“I’m still naked in bed because you’re a fucking heater and your arm is pinning me down,” Alex deadpans.

“You’re no fun.” Greg tweaks a nipple between his large fingers.

“I make it my job.” Alex, though still straight-faced, has a hint of mirth in his eyes.

“And I make it my job to loosen you up a little.” Greg’s hand dips down towards Alex’s ass, but he gets swatted away.

“We’ll be late if you don’t let me get out of bed.”

“It’s not like they can start without us.”

Alex just stares at his companion without an ounce of sympathy.

Greg sighs. He takes his hand back and uses it to prop himself up sideways on his elbow in order to get a better view of the man next to him. Alex indulges in a rare saucy raise of the eyebrows before slipping out of the sheets and pulling on a pair of long-johns, some jeans, a white t-shirt, and a unicorn jumper.

“Aw, you look hideous.”

“Thank you.”

Alex leaves the room. The sound of the radio echoes quietly from the kitchen where Alex has started the kettle. Greg grabs his phone to read the news. He doesn’t like reading the news these days but still finds it important. He thinks it isn’t exactly a great way to bring the mood up first thing in the morning, and briefly considers getting out of bed himself to bug Alex.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex returns with a cup of tea before disappearing again. This is the routine they have when they’re a little rushed for work. Alex is usually the first up and is much better at ushering him on time like a mother hen than he would be on his own. Out of habit, he finishes his tea, closes the news and jumps into the shower to quickly wash up. He dresses in yesterday’s jeans and a dark blue t-shirt before following the smell of sausages and eggs to the kitchen. He’s greeted by a steaming full English breakfast which he gulps down gratefully.

Alex, like a machine, ingests quickly and washes up even faster. The dishes are thrown in the dishwasher, the table is wiped, and second cups of tea are downed in an instant. By 8 they are out the door.


	4. Night 2 - July 26th, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg is getting impatient. Alex makes a compromise at his own cost.

Greg is feeling handsy. The only thing keeping him back is Alex driving. He's been dying all day to run his hands down his TV partner's back, but Covid restrictions won’t give him that luxury. Silence hangs like a thick blanket, restlessness growing.

Alex knows it is just going to get harder to keep Greg at bay. It's not that he doesn't want things to devolve into carnal pleasure, but he knows that once he gives in, there's no way for him to refuse any further advances. He wants to get all the things he absolutely needs to get done this week done in advance, in time for the inevitable moment Greg decides to do what he wants. 

Not to mention the long day, riddled by technical difficulties (first a false fire alarm, then a couple of power failures), has made the man even more impatient.

If they had still been at their beginnings, the car ride would have been a lengthy conversation during which they would each outline what they would like to do once they got home (usually Greg wanting to sink his claws into his sub, and Alex gently pulling him back), but now years of each other's company has greatly reduced the number of said conversations. A lot of formalities, rituals, and habits are anchored into their dynamic in such a way that actions speak louder than words. Not to mention they understand each other on a level of intimacy way beyond any normal friendship. 

Greg is therefore acutely aware that Alex won't give him more than an inch tonight—he still has much on his plate before he will let himself indulge. But god will Greg take that inch and milk every last drop of it. 

Tension rises as they approach Chesham. Greg's shoulders are tensed up, his brow is dipped unconsciously in a frown, and his right hand in a tight fist. Alex ignores it as best he can. He's well aware of what Greg wants, and already he is formulating a silent compromise in his head. 

The second they're through the door, their coats are off, and it is locked behind them, Greg rounds on him abruptly, a silent question. This is where Alex gets the final say. He gives the taller man a look, a small downward flick of the eyes, and leads the way to the living room. He doesn't turn on the lights. First, he takes his sweater off, folds it neatly in half and drapes it over the couch, then he takes his socks off and pockets them. Finally, he kneels in front of the armchair leaving enough space for his Dom to pass and looks up calmly at Greg's towering figure still in the partition between rooms. 

Once upon a time, a part of Greg would have felt bad for essentially requesting this favour from Alex. That part of him is also the part that fears he will genuinely hurt Alex one day and that that'll be the end of it. He supposes it isn't entirely his responsibility and he ought to trust Alex to draw the line if they ever get to it, and he supposes it's natural to be concerned for the human he often sends home with bruises across his backside. But those thoughts were significantly dwarfed by the high he gets from the trust put in him and the utter reverence he has for the fragile creature that will happily shatter between his fingers and then let himself be delicately put back together. Besides, his sub’s shiny eyes are always beckoning him. Even now, Alex’s cheeks are gaining colour from the anticipation. 

Greg slowly seats himself, spreads His legs, and leans back without a word. 

Alex gets to work. He leans in, supporting himself on the man's inner thighs to bend his head forwards and fish out the zip and pull it down. With efficient ease, he nudges his Master's hardening penis out of the fly and licks it to its full height. Into his mouth it goes. Greg groans. Soon His body relaxes, the tension only in His thighs and hands as He forces Himself to keep still. 

“Alex, do you know how long I’ve waited for this?" Greg says. "To have you on your knees between my legs, and your wet mouth around my cock lapping at it like a thirsty dog?” He can’t resist. He passes a hand through Alex’s greying hair, scratching at his scalp. “Do you know how much I love seeing you serving me like this? My beautiful, beautiful boy.”

Alex is trying really hard to concentrate, but he is finding it difficult not to let himself give in to the rising wantonness spurred by his Dom’s words. He focuses on pushing the shaft between his lips deeper down his throat and trying to lap at the balls when he is all the way in, to distract himself from his growing erection. He needs to go back to emails after this, a feat that will not benefit from a massive boner. His Master’s fingers on his head anchor him to the moment—though he does briefly wonder if his balding head will get worse as a result, and how many other people have had the same thought while giving head.

“You’re such a good little sub, taking me in like that,” Greg encourages. “I can’t wait until I can tie you up, your helpless little figure spread out for me, ready to receive.”

Alex speeds up. He needs this to be over before his Master mollifies him into taking things to the bedroom. Of course, Greg knows this, and He loves to make Alex suffer internally. Either way, it’s to His benefit. If Alex gives in, He gets to fuck him. If Alex doesn’t, His sub doubles his efforts with his blowjob to try and end things quickly—and it feels amazing. Greg digs His nails in harder. Alex lets a low groan around the cock in his mouth. His own penis is aching against his boxers. The older man notices and cheekily drags His foot along the bulge of the other man’s pants.

“Look how hungry you are. I wouldn’t even need to ask, you’d just open up for me like a whore. Look at how much you want me to fuck you.”

Alex starts seeing stars. He starts openly moaning, hoping the vibrations will tip his Dom. It works. The sound is obscene and made worse by Greg’s increasing grunts. He grabs His sub by the head and starts thrusting, smashing into the face of the man beneath Him.

“You’re just— Begging me— To use you—” Greg says between grunts.

Alex tries to nod in assent, and though it’s a sloppy nod Greg still sees it. He feels Alex's acknowledgement of wanting to be used by Him go straight to His groin. A few more thrusts and He’s spewing semen down His sub’s throat. Alex swallows dutifully.

“Good boy," Greg growls.

He lets go of His partner’s head, but Alex stays where he is a little longer to properly clean His Dom's penis. When Alex finally leans back to sit on his haunches, there is briefly a link of saliva between the cock and his lips. It breaks and dribbles over Alex’s bottom lip which he slowly licks.

“Thank you, Sir,” Alex says in a quiet and hoarse voice. Greg grins. As always, He's enthralled by the image of the dishevelled man at His feet. Someone who's usually so organized, measured, and controlled, now a fragile, horny mess. _His_ horny mess. 

“You’re very welcome.” There’s a twinkle in Greg’s eyes that puts Alex on his guard. “What should we do about this?” Greg passes His foot over Alex’s bulge once more.

Alex swallows and looks towards the floor, scrunching his eyes, trying to withhold the moan in the back of his throat.

“Alex.” There’s a warning in his Master’s voice that makes him look up and open his eyes.

Greg trails His foot up to Alex’s chin and gently nudges him forwards with it.

Alex shuffles closer until he is practically glued to the chair. Then his Dom grabs him by the chin and simultaneously pulls him up and bends down until His mouth makes contact with his neck. The older man’s spare hand pulls Alex’s t-shirt sideways so his shoulder is revealed and then clamps His teeth into the younger man’s flesh.

Alex gasps at the sudden pain. Over the next thirty seconds, Greg slowly applies more pressure until He is breaking skin and the taste of copper fills His mouth. Alex holds still. He wants to lose himself in the sensation, and he loves the image of his shoulder with a healing bite mark. In the back of his mind, he is also extremely grateful. The switch from arousal to pain is helping get his boner under control. And though he knows this particular act was made with that goal in mind, it doesn’t take away from his feeling of submissiveness.

Greg laps at the bite mark to clean some of the blood and then pulls away and licks his lips.

“You’re a very good boy Alex. You’re _my_ very good boy.” He pecks the man on the forehead, and then more tenderly on the lips. They stay that way for a while, catching their breaths. Alex is leaning on Greg’s legs while the older man pets him. A comfortable silence settles, fragilely kept together by the small contact of their two warm bodies. But the magic must subside.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” Greg says. “You know where to find me if ever you need anything.”

Alex blinks in silent acknowledgement.

Once Greg is upstairs, Alex floats through the next couple hours writing emails. He needs to reread each of them five times before sending them out but it was still very much worth it. He takes a quick shower and doesn’t even bother with boxers before jumping into bed. 

Greg is half-conscious when he slips between the sheets.

“My boy…” the taller man mumbles. Before draping a protective arm around the other man’s body and falling promptly to sleep. Alex doesn’t even resist. He tucks deeper into the big man's embrace and passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious, they did in fact have a false alarm and power failures that day. You can read it off of Richard's blog here: http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/26/7/2020/index.html
> 
> I suspect it was the inspiration for the power meter bit at the end of part 3 of episode 6.


	5. Morning 2 - July 27th, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. ;)

“You know what I miss?” Greg mumbles into Alex’s bare shoulder.

“Mm?” Alex sleepily mumbles back in response.

“The improv before the show.”

Greg is awake before Alex this morning. They’re not far off from needing to get out of bed, but the older man wants to take advantage of being able to hold on to Alex’s naked body. The slightly smaller man is still half asleep, stirred to consciousness by Greg’s wandering hands stroking distractedly at one of his nipples.

“Why do you miss the improv?” Alex shifts around a little to turn his head towards Greg.

“It’s a key moment to establish the dynamic onstage. I mean, the suit and the throne do wonders, but nothing like getting you to do anything I want for a couple of minutes. The contestants have been treating you more humanly as well. I hate it.” Greg’s frown is playful though.

Alex surprises himself when he feels compelled to kiss the man. He will peck people, or kiss them as a playful comical gesture, but rarely out of deep heartfelt affection. But entangled as they are, sharing each other’s heat, aware that Alex has not gotten the same relief that Greg has had the night before, maybe it isn’t that surprising. 

“You’ll get to have me all to yourself tonight,” Alex offers. Greg perks up. “I should be done with all of the urgent work things by dinner. My last phone call is during break.”

Greg puts on his serious face. “You better be. If you’re making false promises, there will be trouble.”

Alex is half-amused, half nervous. He’d more or less guess at Greg’s reaction. “I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m serious, Alex.” Greg suddenly flips himself so he’s on top of his partner, the other man pinned beneath him. “I will fuck, you, up.” Greg’s face is a centimetre away, his eyes are dangerously hungry, and his hips are pressed against Alex’s rising erection.

Alex just meowls helplessly. Against his better judgement, he tilts his neck sideways and up to present it to his Dom. Greg growls and rakes his teeth across the vulnerable flesh.

“It’s your turn to be patient, slut. You’ll have to wait until tonight. No touching yourself.”

Greg saucily presses down against Alex’s naked body.

“Oh, God.” Alex wiggles uncomfortably trying to find a position with less friction.

“Alex.” Greg raises an eyebrow expectantly, an evil grin plastered on his face.

“Yes, Sir.” Any movement seems fruitless though.

Greg presses down harder. “‘Yes, Sir’ what?”

Alex gasps out the words quickly, desperate to alleviate the pressure. “I won’t touch myself. I’ll be a good boy. I’m all yours Sir.”

“Good boy.” Amusement is clear on the dominant man’s face.

He rolls off of his partner’s body and sees the healing bite mark.

“How’s your shoulder?” He asks.

Alex takes a second to reposition himself and pull the blankets tighter around him.

“Fine, yeah.”

Unconvinced, Greg pokes at the bruise forming around the scab.

Alex's mouth parts a little in a silent gasp. “A little sore,” he admits.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Lying to me already so early in the day? You’re lucky I’m too excited to fuck you tonight to deny you the pleasure of my cock in your ass.”

Terrified that Greg will try something this morning, Alex immediately apologises.

“Sorry, Sir.”

They end up staring at each other. The younger man looking like a deer caught in headlights, the older like a cat sunbathing. Until Greg finds Alex’s face funny and grins.

“Tea?” he asks his friend.

Alex’s body relaxes as the dynamic reverts to something casual.

“You mean you want me to go and make you tea?” The auburn man smiles and is already moving to leave the bed.

“Yes.” Greg smiles back.

“Alright, I’ll be back in two shakes of a crying baby.”

\---

It takes all morning and a cold shower for Alex’s boner to subside. Not helped by Greg who playfully squeezes or slaps his buttcheeks every time he passes behind him while he’s preparing breakfast and cleaning up. For the first time in a while, he finds himself being grateful for the pandemic. Without it, Greg would have spent all day teasing him. Though he didn’t think he needed that particular torture this time around to keep him borderline aroused all day.


	6. Night 3 - July 27th, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may have ended up being pornier than I first intended...

“But yeah,” Greg concludes. “You should probably separate Daisy and Richard if you’ve got more studio team tasks. She might genuinely rip his head off. And Richard’s right in saying it’ll be better for the competition.” He can’t stop himself from laughing at the memory from earlier that evening when Daisy had been furious at Richard for not being able to guess her horribly drawn attempt at straight line Pictionary. “Good telly though.”

Alex is pulling into his driveway. They’ve been laughing about it all the way home, which is usually a pretty good indication that the next few shows are about to devolve into even further madness.

“Yeah… I might do. I’ll pass it by Andy tomorrow morning.”

Alex is barely able to conceal his anticipation. Neither are his pants which have been getting tighter as the day went on. He’s practically vibrating. 

They hop out of the car and quickly into Alex’s house.

Though Greg is straightening his face into something more grave and Alex is curling in on himself to make himself smaller, there’s a giddiness about them. Like children on Christmas morning. Alex hopes it stays that way forever. He loves the small shivers it sends down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the unknown. 

They take a second at the door to ground themselves, to isolate their partner’s presence. It’s just them now. Then, their eyes meet and it’s game on. Greg disappears up the stairs, leaving Alex with a warning look. Alex walks around the ground floor pulling curtains shut, then undresses until he is stark naked. His clothes are neatly folded into a pile and left in a basket at the bottom of the staircase where he kneels with his head lowered. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he’s rather embarrassed by how hard he already is. Alex starts by concentrating on his breathing and relaxing each of his limbs. Starting with his head and going down to the tip of his toes, until he’s aware of the cold floor and his cooling skin. By the time he has covered his entire body, he is relatively calm and focused. 

Then, he hears the top of the stairs creak. Though he can’t see Him, Greg is walking down towards him predator-like. He has changed into His suit, waistcoat and all, save the bare feet. There is a stern expression on His face, staring at His sub, making sure the boy is perfectly still. Greg feels a hunger fill Him at the sight of the waiting figure. Delectably bare. 

When Greg reaches the bottom of the staircase, Alex bows forward to lay a kiss on each of his Master’s feet. Then, when he straightens his back again, his Dom pulls out a thin black leather collar from His pocket and fastens it on his neck. The metal ring resting between the clavicles seems to wink up at them both.

Greg walks past His sub into the living room and onto the armchair. Alex crawls behind Him until they are positioned similar to yesterday. Taking Greg’s parting legs as his cue, the auburn man fishes out the other man’s penis from His trousers and starts sucking it once more. Once His cock is hard and erect, his Master lays a firm hand on Alex’s shoulder. Alex immediately freezes, his mouth deep around his Dom’s shaft. The hand on his shoulder eases and starts petting him idly while Alex struggles to maintain position. As time passes, he sometimes needs to discreetly suckle on his Master’s cock to prevent saliva from grossly dribbling onto the man’s pants. He is also finding it harder to ignore the hand stroking him gently on the head, across the neck, onto his upper back at a repetitive rhythm. His limbs are getting cold, but Greg’s fingers remain warm, increasingly like a trail of fire that sends shivers down his spine. 

Alex relaxes. He slips into the moment. Comforting, when compared to the beginning of the week. His thoughts disappear, and he feels himself become small underneath his Dom’s palm. His back starts to curl into Greg’s touch. He likes the smallness. 

Eventually, Greg grabs Alex’s chin in a tight grip and pulls his mouth off His cock. His head is tilted uncomfortably upwards where he is forced to look into his Master’s eyes. In them, he sees a fierce desire. A desire to see Alex absolutely lose it, a desire to see Alex absolutely helpless. Fear tugs at his chest. The sub licks his lips. His eyes are bright. He loves not knowing what is about to happen. Greg gives him a dangerous grin.

“Come here,” He gestures towards His lap. 

Alex obediently settles himself with his back against Greg’s chest. He feels the hard erection rest teasingly between his ass cheeks. The bigger man wraps His arms around His sub, and Alex automatically sinks deeper into his Dom’s chest, into His armpit, making himself smaller.

“Legs apart, Alex,” Greg orders.

The man obeys despite the feeling of foreboding that fills him. Greg hums in consideration, reaches for His partner’s balls, and gently starts massaging them.

“No need to worry,” the older man says when He feels Alex tense up. “I thought I could help you relax after a long day.”

There’s something about his Dom’s voice that is too reassuring, but the careful kneading becomes rather soothing over time. Not to mention the ache that is slowly growing in the pit of his stomach. Alex, eyelashes fluttering, sighs in contentment and lets out small whimpers. His shaft is standing proud.

“Mmm, you’re liking that, yes?” Greg nibbles the man’s earlobe hard enough to pinch, and then moves on to sucking at his neck, leaving hickeys in places that will be easy to hide. His hands move over to Alex’s penis, stroking it languorously. 

Alex moans. His eyes roll into the back of his head.

“How does this feel?”

Another moan. “Good, Sir.” He throws his head back, throat bared, Adam's apple bobbing, struggling to stop himself from thrusting his hips. Greg’s mouth is hot on his skin, eating him alive. The hand on his cock speeds up, the thumb flicking the tip when it’s in reach. Alex’s knuckles are white from gripping the arms of the chair. He’s panting, his mind melting at the pleasure. “Sir, ah, please. Ahh. Please, Sir. May I come?”

Alex feels his Master smile against his skin.

“Hmmm? You may not, slut. I know you’d love to, but I’m not quite done watching you squirm.”

His sub chokes one a moan, and just when He sees that Alex has climbed to the edge, He abruptly stops to land a hard slap to the side of His boy’s penis. Alex’s eyes immediately spring open at the sting. He feels the buildup come to a frustrating halt, like if the breaks had been forcefully slammed. A pained grunt escapes his lips. Greg repeats His gesture, alternating between sides, slowly augmenting the strength of His hits until Alex is unsure whether the pain has overtaken the stocked up pleasure. One thing is sure, his genitals are starting to reach overstimulation. After the slapping, Greg takes pleasure in kneading the testicles once more, though more forcefully this time, again, building pressure. Until Alex is sure that pain is predominant. His hands are grasping the arms of the chair for a wholly different reason. His eyes are squeezed shut, and the sounds escaping his mouth are close to that of a wounded animal. He feels the pressure build, and when he thinks more would probably be too much, his Dom presses harder. And again, when he gets used to the current amount and thinks he couldn’t possibly take more, Greg gives him more. His Master alternates between slapping and squeezing until his mind can no longer comprehend, until he mostly registers the touch of his Dom’s hands, the pain somewhere in the back of his mind until the pit in his stomach starts growing again. It feels like an eternity where he’s stuck in a loop of wanting less because it hurts but wanting more because he’s achingly hard and it’ll all end if he’s allowed to come. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, the noises coming out of his mouth an incomprehensible blubber.

“You’re beautiful like this, Alex,” comes the rumble of Greg’s voice. His consciousness hooks on to it as if it were a lifeboat. “You’re so good for me. I love that desperate little face of yours. You’ve opened your legs wider the more I dish out pain. I love to see you sink into it. Do you want to come, Alex? Just nod your head.”

Alex nods his head vigorously. 

“Hmmm…” Greg stops His torture and returns to the gentle stroking. 

The careful touches are almost as infuriating as the painful slaps. The genitals, already incredibly sensitive, register the fingers all the more vividly. It is as torturous as the other way around. Alex squirms. He feels his Master dick, still pressed between his buttcheeks, dripping pre-come on his skin.  _ That _ sends a jolt to his own groin, as if a slightly more animalistic part of him until now tucked in his unconscious, had sprung to life. He grinds back against it, trying to lather the juice along the crack of his ass. 

“Very nice,” Greg coos. “I love it when you’re honest about your hunger.”

Alex pants and moans, trying to gain enough friction between his front and his back. 

“Hands and knees, slut.”

The auburn man, achingly hard for ages now and want clear in his eyes, slides off his Master’s lap to position himself on all fours, his ass up. There’s an indecent trail of slick glistening between his ass cheeks. Greg stands and gives him a good slap on the rear. Automatically, Alex’s legs spread wider, his back arches, and his ass rises a couple of inches.

“Good boy,” Greg compliments.

The next thing he knows, Greg’s fingers, slick with lube, impatiently make their way into his hole. They work it open thoroughly enough to be safe but not methodically enough to remove discomfort. Alex tries pushing back into them but gets spanked into stillness. Soon enough though, his Dom’s cock is poking at his opening and thrusts powerfully forwards. He feels it fill him suddenly and completely. A groan of satisfaction escapes his lips. Greg grunts above him and starts up a slow rhythm. It is quickly abandoned for a faster pace, Alex feeling the limb slide in and out of his anus and poking at his prostate. Though he is being pounded into, the man tries to meet the thrusts as best he can. The slap of flesh on flesh mixed with the grunts and moans of the two men fill the room. Greg’s hands tighten around his waist, enough that there’ll be bruises, and he knows that his Master’s close. The bigger man leans over, grabs the back of His sub’s neck, and right before He’s about to release He rumbles into the man’s ear,

“Come for me.”

And Alex shatters. He spills all over the floor, his ass tightening, hungrily milking the cock buried inside him. Even an orgasm hurts his poor sensitive penis, but it’s largely overshadowed by the rush washing over him. Greg pulls out and holds on to Alex who would have collapsed otherwise. He gently lays the man down and pets his head until he regains his breath. Then, Greg grabs a couple of wet towels to wipe Alex and the floor, as well as a blanket to throw over the man’s shoulders. His friend just lays there until Greg helps him up onto the couch, where he curls up into the blanket. The older man starts the kettle before joining his partner. Alex immediately cuddles up onto Greg’s lap and closes his eyes. They stay a while, the water slowly rumbling to life in the background. The day sinks into them. Their bodies start to feel heavy. But in their minds, the high still lingers. Eventually, tea is consumed, and Greg insists Alex eat something. They draw a warm bath where Alex lets Greg wash him, then massage cream into every inch of his body before settling in bed.

“What would I do without you?” Greg asks before turning off the lights.

But Alex just smiles in contentment. He presses himself against his friend, appreciating how safe he feels against that warm body.


	7. Morning 3 - July 28th, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another morning, or Aftercare cont.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading so far!  
> I know I don't answer them, but I love reading the comments <3 They make my day.  
> Much love,

Alex’s brain is full of cobwebs. All he can process is the softness of the sheets and the sunlight behind his closed eyelids. He reaches to his left, expecting to come into contact with a second body but his fingers grasp at thin air. There’s a brief moment of confusion, wondering why the realisation of being alone in bed makes him feel lonely. He lets his arm go limp against the mattress and he peels open his eyes.

“Good morning, princess.”

He turns his head towards the bedroom door, cracking a sleepy smile when he sees Greg’s mountainous figure, already dressed, filling the doorway.

“‘Morning,” he mumbles. 

Greg grins at the sloppy smile. “How’s your body feeling, sweet cheeks?”

The previous night floods back to the forefront of the groggy man’s memory. Blood rushes to Alex’s face when he remembers the desperation with which he pushed back onto his Master’s cock. He rolls in on himself self consciously, simultaneously taking a quick inventory of his limbs, which muscles are sore by how much, and how sensitive his groin still is. 

“Still kind of sore,” he mumbles again.

Greg raises a cheeky eyebrow and approaches the bed.

“Show Daddy.”

The smaller man blushes deeper at the title. The tops of his ears are a pretty shade of red.

“Do I have to?” he asks.

But a single severe look dissuades him from any kind of resistance and he pushes the covers sideways to reveal his pale figure. Greg sits on the side of the bed looking down with affection to the body he left marks on the night before. He lets his fingers skim across the hickeys and the teeth marks ( _his_ teeth marks), down to the finger-shaped bruises along the hips, and the sensitive looking genitals. He passes over each muscle, squeezing and poking just enough to know whether any are tense.

“Rollover,” he instructs.

Alex obeys, feeling vaguely like a dog.

Greg grabs cream from on top of the nightstand and proceeds to gently massage his partner’s tight spots, being careful to avoid putting pressure on anywhere sensitive. Alex relaxes, almost falling back to sleep. He lets out low hums of appreciation… and zones out.

He is brought back to wakefulness by the clink of a mug being set down on a hard surface and the smell of black tea.

“Wake up sleepy head.” The bed dips under the bigger man’s weight. Alex feels teeth start to nibble at his ear and groans in disappointment at having to move. He rises slowly, unravelling like a caterpillar, sits on his haunches and gives Greg a blank stare. Greg pecks him on the nose, which is enough to elicit a small giggle from the auburn man. Greg smiles and stands.

“Up,” he says pointedly, then leaves the room and heads to the kitchen.

Alex sits on the side of the bed to drink his tea and get dressed. He then joins his friend in the kitchen where he is greeted by a massive plate of pancakes which he knows Greg will largely finish by himself. He briefly thinks that his partner looks good in his glasses, one hand armed with a spatula, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his greying hair still in bedhead mode.

“Thoughts about last night?” the older man asks as he flips the last pancake.

Alex briefly pauses mid-action as he waits for Greg’s ok to start eating before serving himself from the pile.

“It was good,” he says between bites. “Though I wish we could have fucked longer.” 

Alex tries to maintain a straight face, ruined as he briefly chokes on his food.

Greg is not impressed.

“You might regret that wish of yours.”

Alex frowns. “Why’s tha— oh.” His chewing slows as he pictures Greg's body sliding in and out of his backside at a slow pace for an achingly long period of time. There’s a lengthening silence. Alex's eyes go from embarrassment to dismay to lust.

“Well?” Greg asks at the face Alex is giving him.

He hesitates, tilting his head and chewing as if he’s found a particularly tough bit of meat. He swallows.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?” Alex admits.

He almost immediately regrets his words when he sees his partner’s eyes light up deviously. 

“Hmmmm… We’ll see.” There’s a promise he doesn’t want to know the implications of.

Breakfast continues in comfortable silence. Until Alex is done eating and washes the dishes while Greg eats his portion. They store the leftovers in the fridge (what’s new) and hurry out the door.


End file.
